


Without a Tune

by vancreep



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vancreep/pseuds/vancreep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders smiled again, and looked down at the instrument. “Let's see how much I can remember.”</p><p>	“And add lyrics. Make it fun.”</p><p>	“My love, you ask for too much,” Anders laughed. “I will try my best to make up lyrics on the spot. I'm as much a poet as I am a musician.”</p><p>	“Then at least I'll have a good laugh.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without a Tune

**Author's Note:**

> i had to write SOMETHING after examining the lute in hawke's room. u know they had musical afterglow. rated for implied sex.

The first time they made love, it was special.

 

The second time, it felt natural.

 

But the third was one that Hawke wouldn't be able to forget, and for all the right reasons.

 

The fireplace cracked, and Hawke opened his eyes. He reached a hand over to the other side of the bed, expecting to touch someone – _where_ exactly, he wouldn't say – but was met with only a fistful of silk sheets.

 

He groaned as he sat up, the blanket falling to his lap, covering up _just_ enough in case someone were to barge in on their lazy afterglow. Hawke didn't have to go on a search, as Anders had sat himself on the edge of the bed, blanket covering his lap as he stared at the dying fire with a dreamy expression, like he didn't even notice that Hawke had woken up from his well deserved rest.

 

“Anders?” Hawke asked finally.

 

The mage suddenly snapped back to reality, and glanced over his shoulder to Hawke. “Oh. I'm sorry, love. I was just...”

 

Hawke squinted, and realized what exactly Anders was looking at – the lute that was leaning against the side of the fireplace. A lazy smile pulled at his lips and Hawke looked back at Anders.

 

“Don't tell me you know how to play,” Hawke commented, a bit of surprise in his voice.

 

Anders snorted lightly as he laughed. “It's been a few years. Would you mind if I...?”

 

Hawke made a gesture toward the lute, giving Anders his answer.

 

The corners of Anders's lips twitched into a smile, one so gentle, Hawke could melt. He's seen that look before, the way Ander's eyebrows fell into such a soft expression. His heart fluttered when he saw his lover's smile, and every time, he felt like he was as young and in love as the first time he told Anders he loved him.

 

The blond stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around his nude waist.

 

Hawke sighed. “Still so modest...”

 

“It's _awkward_ being naked in front of you!”

 

“I was just inside you, and yet you find being nude in front of me, in the privacy of my bedroom, is awkward?”

 

Anders's cheeks turned red and he cleared his throat while he brought the lute back to bed. Hawke moved to lay on his side and propped himself up with his arm, watching Anders with the wonder of a child, a grin on his face as his stomach tightened in anticipation.

 

Then Anders played a few notes. And Hawke winced.

 

“That was...” Hawke started, though stopped his comment there.

 

“Awful,” Anders chuckled. “I know.”

 

“I thought you knew how to play?”

 

“I do,” the mage argued. “Just... not well. It's been a while.”

 

“How long is a while?” Hawke inquired.

 

Anders stayed quiet for a few moments, staring off at the fire again, as though he was reminiscing in his own mind. And then he smiled.

 

“When I was in the circle,” he began, “there was a templar. He played the lute beautifully, but he was very cruel. The other mages wondered, how could such a cruel man create something so peaceful, so soothing? But that's unrelated to the story. A group and I... we stole his lute. Just out of curiosity. And we planned on putting it back – no harm done! Another mage, he played the lute in a square in his hometown. He was actually playing the lute when the templars dragged him away. And maker, when he began playing... His gentle fingers moved across the strings so effortlessly, it made the circle seem brighter. But then... one of the strings snapped. And all that brightness, that sunlight... it was gone in an instant. He put the lute back where we had found it, but of course the templar noticed.” Anders sighed and plucked one of the strings, as if mirroring the exact string that had snapped. “I never saw that mage again. In the short time we had that lute, he showed me a few notes. My memory is a bit foggy, as I was much younger, but even then I was a little hopeless in my musical talents.”

 

Hawke, who had been listening carefully and silently, weakly smiled at his lover. “You can always learn again,” he suggested. “I'm sure that...”

 

“I don't know about that,” Anders shook his head. “I appreciate music, but it certainly isn't my calling.”

 

Hawke shrugged his shoulders, and rolled over onto his stomach. “Will you try again? I'd like for that lute to get some use, if it's just going to sit there.”

 

Anders smiled again, and looked down at the instrument. “Let's see how much I can remember.”

 

“And add lyrics. Make it fun.”

 

“My love, you ask for too much,” Anders laughed. “I will try my best to make up lyrics on the spot. I'm as much a poet as I am a musician.”

 

“Then at least I'll have a good laugh.”

 

Anders rolled his eyes, but didn't mind the humor at his expense. That's what it was like with Hawke. Comfort around each other. Enough to lounge, naked, and playing a lute without a tune.

 

Anders inhaled, before strumming the lute, and opening his mouth to softly sing.

 

“There once was a man,” Anders turned to Hawke, as if to say 'that's you.' “Who fell in love with a mage-”

 

“Oh maker no, not a love song,” Hawke groaned as he dramatically sprawled across the bed.

 

“Hush, you. I'm trying.”

 

“Forgive me. But... your voice does sound nice. You sing?”

 

“I used to,” Anders sighed as he ran his fingers lightly across the side of the lute. “Quietly. In whispers. Templars didn't like it when the mages sang. Or had fun.” He shrugged. “But we found ways. At night, mostly, when the templars slept. It was nice.”

 

“Well when you think of some lyrics,” Hawke said as he sat up behind Anders, and paused to place a sweet kiss on the blond's shoulder. “Sing for me. And you can sing as loud as you want. You do have a lovely voice.”

 

“You flatter me, love. Perhaps one day I will.”

 

“...But without the lute. That's definitely not your strong point.”

 

“Without the lute,” Anders agreed, defeated. “Did it sound that bad?”

 

Hawke thought for a moment, resting his chin on Anders's shoulder. “If the taste of a sour lemon had a sound, that would be it.”

 

“You're exaggerating!”

 

“Your right. A screeching cat? You know, like the ones we hear being chased by the neighbor's mabari at night,” Hawke snorted.

 

“Oh you're over dramatic,” Anders accused. “...Shall we burn the lute to get the fire going again?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 


End file.
